Porcelain
by RunLiLiRun
Summary: News of Lex's disappearance on top of Clark's vanishing proves to be too much for Lana. Lex/Lana friendship. Chloe/Lana friendship. Post-S2. Written June, 2003.


_Porcelain_

_by Lissette aka RunLiLiRun  
_

Disclaimer: Smallville is owned by DC Comic and Millar & Gough. Made for entertainment purposes only.  
Summary: The news of Lex's disappearance on top of Clark's vanishing proves to be too much for Lana. Chloe/Lana friendship.  
Spoilers: Post-Exodus, All of S1 and S2  
Rating: PG-13 Graphic angst.

__

Porcelain  
by Lissette aka RunLiLiRun

Five nights after Clark Kent had abandoned her and she had never worked so hard in her life in such a short amount of time. It was as if she combined the entire year's exhausting dedication, pain, and grief into those five days. Everything that had happened this year, from the beginning-getting caught in three twisters last year to the almost daily freaks coming after her, her emotions were condensed into that small span of time. The terror, the desperation and the helplessness. Clark Kent had left her life in shambles.

With Clark gone the world didn't cease to exist, life still went on and customers continued streaming into The Talon. Lex Luthor depended on her to maintain the place open, even if she felt like someone had taken an ice pick to her heart. She wondered if the ice pick wasn't still in her, sticking out of her chest, and she had to avoid bumping into people unless it accidentally buried a little deeper. Unfortunately, there were no physical marks to tell of the raging pain inside. Unfortunately, she couldn't just stay in bed for the rest of the summer and mope. So Lana Lang dived head long into her work, taking as many shifts in a row as possible. She wasn't living, she was working.

When she went home she had only enough energy to fall into bed**,** and even then she slept without dreaming. Lana lived without thinking, for she knew in her bones that if she allowed logic to seep into her mind an unmanageable rage would consume her. Rage at her situation, at life and especially at Clark. To keep it taped down, she stayed at The Talon. _What can I get you? That'll be a total of $5.89. Did you look at the specials today?_ But she could still feel it, simmering underneath where a person's soul is stored and trying to come out. Surrounding herself with people throughout the day and evening kept her distracted and she could forget the mess that her life was and concentrate on service. It was when she was alone that it was the hardest to ignore. Who was she fooling? She was alone all the time, in a crowd, on the street, eating breakfast with Chloebut when there was no one else to serve, her body not preoccupied, thats when her mind wandered dangerously.

Bent over the sink, Lana forced her hands to do the repetitive chore. Green porcelain dishes were washed until they were speckless and shiny. Purposely sending everyone home without letting them help her close up, she wasn't sure if she regretted it or not. Music from the radio still played and unlike when The Talon was full, it echoed strangely. Since Emily had appeared to her here, Lana had not felt safe and comfortable in The Talon anymore. What other ghosts from her past would show up? There was no other place to go, though. Devoid of people, Lana had her privacy here. Chloe's house was not home and her bedroom there was not as private as standing in front of a sink in an empty building, drying these green porcelain dishes. They were pretty, smooth and expensive. Yet, with no one around, her thoughts could be heard clearly. She should be used to being alone by now. Did she ever learn? Life had taught her again and again, reminded her that those she loved would pass, destined to always end up alone. Don't think, just do. Wipe dry, set aside, pick up, wipe dry and set aside.

An announcement on the radio registered into her hazy head. "debris from the plane is only now being washed up on shore. No bodies have turned up yet but it is clear as to who was in the plane."Lana started stacking plates and turned to put them away." A Luthor corp logo was found in the wreckage and authorities are now positive that Lex Luthor and his new wife, on their way to Fiji for their honeymoon, were the unfortunate victims."

Mid stride she stopped and stared blindly in front of her. All seven plates fell, slipping from her numb fingers and shattering to the floor. Lana could not feel anything but a great gaping void in her chest. Fate had come along and ripped her heart out. There was no sound, no pulse pounding in her head, only silence. She wasn't aware if she was breathing. She wasn't aware of the fragments at her feet nor of a car screeching to a halt outside. Lana didn't care. She was only aware of the pain.

On her way to pick up Lana, Zombie, Chloe Sullivan had run a red light. She hadn't meant to and hadn't intended to cause an accident behind her. A three-car collision made a terrible crunching sound. She had heard the news on the radio and her foot just stayed where it was, heavy on the gas pedal. Maybe she was in shock. Chloe didn't stop to asses the damage she had done and continued driving, even speeding up to reach The Talon a few blocks away. Coming to a screeching halt in front of her roommate's business and hideout, she couldn't get the keys out of the ignition fast enough. In her haste she almost left the driver's door open. Hoping that Lana had been careless and left the front door open she yanked at the handle. She had been that careless. Stepping inside, she searched The Talon for the raven beauty. There, standing behind the counter, her hands out in front of her holding something invisible. Lana seemed frozen. Now that she was here, she didn't know what to say or how to react. When Whitney had died it appeared that Lana had handled that herself or she had gone to Clark. But Clark wasn't here anymore and this was Lex. Lex was not Whitney. Swallowing hard, Chloe's voice trembled. "Lana?" The eyes that turned to stare at her were glazed and stunned. The radio announcer moved on to the weather report. _Oh, no, she knew._ Walking up to her cautiously, Chloe held out a hand as if to pacify Lana. The girl closed her eyes and crumpled to the floor.

When Chloe bent down to her, Lana was unconscious in a pile of broken dishes. Green porcelain dishes were under and around Lana. Hoping she hadn't fallen on any sharp ends and hurt herself, Chloe pulled her up by the arms, then brought an arm around her back. She eventually got her to a plush chair. After ten minutes of calling her and taping her face without response, Chloe gave up and flipped on a TV screen. Lex and Lana had recently installed six of them in The Talon. There, the news. The evidence spoke for itself. Debris of a plane was washing up on a California beach. Pieces, everything in pieces. The biggest was probably as big as a coffee table. The reporter spoke gravely. "Lionel Luthor holds hope that his son is still alive and is having a team of expert scuba divers search the coast." _Yeah, like what was he expecting to find? _Chloe thought bitterly._ Lex having a grand old time under the sea? No one could have survived that crash._

"It's not a dream," Lana said, voice devoid of emotion as she gazed at the scene on television. She listened to them saying that they wouldn't know what happened until they had found the plane's black box. Listen to their last moments of life. It was sick. Lex had probably been yelling out orders the whole way down. Or he had cried out just like the rest of them.

Chloe turned to her. It was a disturbing sight to behold. Lana was sitting exactly as Chloe had left her, sprawled on the chair, hands hanging off the arms rests and head to the side. Her eyes were not shiny with tears, like she would have expected of the beautiful girl. She had heard her cry herself to sleep every night since Clark left. Much like she had been doing, not for the same reasons though. Now, Lana stared at her blankly, her gaze flickering over Chloe's shoulder. Despite the tension between the two, despite whatever Chloe felt about her, it was put on hold and it generally didn't matter at the moment. Lana'sboyfriend, the word rolled bitterly in her head, had split and now her business partner and Chloe knew, good friend, had been killed. So what if she didn't understand what they could have possibly had in common. So what if she had thought it very strange for those two to go into business together in the first place. She hadn't known Lex well, just what she had dug up on him and found out while researching Lionel Luthor. Yet the impact this was having on Lana kind of astounded her. 

How close had they **been**? In the past, Chloe had wished to be in Lana's place. She had it all; the guy, the perfect body and the perfect life. When Lana had moved in with her, she was surprised to find out that Lana was not that girl. She had pimples every so often, she cried at night and had huge abandonment issues. People left Lana. No amount of money could be large enough to convince Chloe to switch positions with this tragic maiden. Pity invaded her body.

"Lana," she put a hand on her arm. The girl flinched and Chloe pulled back like she had been physically swiped away. "I am so sorry," she said sincerely. Tears gathered in her eyes. Everyone said it and she knew that it didn't help and it couldn't possibly make her feel any better. Nothing could make her feel better. Death took a part of you away and Lana had many loved ones die. What was left of Lana to patch up?

"Clark is gone but at least I know somewhere, where ever he is, he's still alive." Lana's voice faded away.

"Come on, Lana, let's go home," Chloe took her hand this time without being rebuked.

"I don't have a home," she whispered and closed her eyes.

"You know that my dad and I are here for you, Lana." God, Lana's hands were freezing. Uncomfortable, she let go and watched her friend's hand fall limply on her lap.

No they weren't. They were looking for an excuse to dump her. There was no place she belonged. Chloe hadn't been forced to take her in but now that she knew more about Lana, knew what Lana had become, why keep her? What kind of a friend was she to Chloe? She had taken Clark away from her. Clark was always in the middle. This wasn't about Clark anymore, this was about Lex. Chloe couldn't possibly know how she was feeling. Did she even feel bad? Or did she just brush it off like she knew everyone else was? Oh a Luthor? Well now the world is a better place without that kind of blood. God, she was disgusted. Everyone was the same. The same ignorance and greed and stupidity. Her eyes opened and glared at the ground. This would make front page on The Torch. "I need to be alone," she told the air.

Lana wasn't looking good. After what happened with Clark, she had looked awful, but she had not looked soempty. Chloe knew it wasn't a good idea to leave her by herself. Lana didn't seem suicidal, but considering the way she was acting and looking after losing two of the most important people in her lifeit was questionable. "I don't know, Lana. My car is just outside. We can go someplace quiet, anywhere you want. Let me just call my dad-"

The cell phone was out of her pocket in an instant but when Lana hissed it made Chloe pause. "Just. Leave." It was harsh and didn't offer any room for argument. Lana didn't need to go anywhere, and certainly not with Chloe.

Hurt, Chloe stood up abruptly. "Call if you need anything," she reluctantly felt forced to state. Crossing The Talon briskly, she was just at the entrance when she changed her mind. This was ridiculous, Lana needed to start opening up to people. Turning to face her, determined to help her out, her mouth was already open to start talking. The seat was empty. Closing her jaw she saw Lana had gotten up and drifted up the stairs, disappearing inside the theater. Sighing, she understood that Lana needed to be alone in her grief for now and would later come to her if she wanted.

Walking down the red aisle, she recalled the memories this theater contained. It held mostly memories of Lex, with a few of Clark and Chloe in between. Lex giving her information on her father, talking to her on the budget from a seat and laughing at her when she spilled paint on herself while painting the chairs. Lana giving Lex a thumbs up as the projection appeared on screen and Lex falling on the very spot she was standing. This rise on the ground had a funny beginning. When renovating, the boards in this particular area had rotten to the point where when Lex had put his foot down it went right through, getting stuck to the knee. He had gotten splinters and she had insisted that she help him pull them out. Those boards had been fixed awkwardly and there was still a tell tale bump. They had made sure to walk around it now but on occasion they would trip.

She had lost everything that meant something to her. She had nothing left. No parents, no friends, no boyfriend, no business partner, no kick boxing instructor, no one to learn from, no person she could look up to and no bald millionaire. Good bye where times of playful candor over dinner, coffee, breakfast, his office, his living room, on her horse, under the stars, inside a Porsche and on top of counters. The counters. Where Lex had made her stand on the tables to see how sturdy they were and she had asked him to do the same. They had yelled back and forth between tables, ticking off good tables and bad tables-those that snapped under their weight. This place; it was their own. They had picked the design of this place. She had wanted Egyptian and he had wanted Asyrian. They had compromised, the entire place had memories of their compromises, that's why The Talon was so colorful. She wanted white chocolate available, he had wanted dark chocolate. Lana had relented on the televisions and he had relented on the porcelain dishware. Now she had seen what had remained of the Luthor plane on those same damn televisions and couldn't bear to imagine what his body would look like. The fishes would most likely nark at it and what was left would only be bones. And those porcelain dishes she had so insisted on were broken.

Lex. Bold, smiling, serious, embarrassed, amused, confused, impressed, down, angry, bitter and caring. The one human being who understood her for who she was out of everyone in her life was dead. For days she had been in a daze, trying desperately to keep from breaking down completely. The gravity of the situation hit her body first. This was the catalyst. Lana let go of her control, the mask disappeared and a damaged girl was exposed. Her legs gave out underneath her.

Her mind was hit next. No pain was as great she the pain she was feeling now. The years combined of her mourning her dead parents were nothing to this suffering. Unlike how she felt about Clark, there was no room for hatred or rage, only grief. Grief consumed her, she breathed it, became it and left her speechless. It molted under her skin and evaporated out of her pores. It was everlasting and endless. Finally her soul was hit last.

__

Oh, god. Lex, oh god, no. Please, not him, Lex. No, please, Lex, no.

Over and over again that was all that ran through her mind. No actual sentences, until there was nothing to say. Already kneeling over, all she needed to do was stop, discontinue to exist. Mouth open in quiet anguish, at last she let out a wail. It was a horrible sound, it went high pitched and ended in a low whine. It hurt to breathe and to cry out. The sobs wretched out from her body so hard that she shook, trembled and her throat felt swollen. She ended up lying on the floor, hands embedded into the carpet and hair covering her hot face. Women mourning their husbands after seeing them killed reacted violently. They had to be restrained from scratching out people's eyes or tearing their clothes off in agony. Her nails were bleeding at the claw like hold she had on the carpet. It was the only way to restrain herself from going out into The Talon and breaking everything in sight. To break apart all that was theirs because there was no point when he wasn't there to share it. How was it possible to feel this much despair and still be alive? No, she wasn't alive. Where there was a hole in her heart there was now a volcano. Her dead heart must have ruptured. It hurt to live. It burned and ached. Lana didn't stop crying for a long time. When tears dried up she continued. She moaned and rocked back and forth, trying hopelessly to create some resemblance of comfort.

When the sun rose, Lana had not moved. Curled up in a fetus position, she had not slept. Her eyes had remained open to stare up at the roof. She was just like the porcelain plates on the floor. Broken, smashed and in pieces. She was a shattered porcelain doll. She would never be put back together again. And if they managed, never would she be the same way again.

_- June 2, 2003._


End file.
